“And once you said that no apology was needed.”
“I believe I did. But I was speaking on the side of prejudice.”
For some minutes she was silent, then moved along.
“Perhaps you are wisest,” she said. “We will let the matter be.”
We rejoined the others. Sunbeam was now engaged on hemming a handkerchief.
“It’s for someone who is suffering,” she explained to me as supper was being prepared. “Father will take it with him when he goes and wipes the tears from their eyes. Every stitch is made of Love, and the fabric is of Peace.”
CHAPTER IV
The next morning I was up with the light. I went downstairs and through the open door into the cheerful gardens.
Freshness and beauty reigned on all things. The early morning scent of flowers, the bright singing of the birds, the glorious sunlight responded like youth’s freshest friends to my clear spirits.
I walked amongst the beds of springing flowers and by the shade of noble trees till suddenly I saw Sunbeam coming dancing lightly down the shining lawn. Her hands were waving in the air, her simple, graceful garments floated like her hair upon the breeze, and round her, like a cloud of beauty, butterflies were wheeling, dancing as she danced, as if she were their sun.